duncan228
06-22-2008, 04:12 PM
http://www.ocregister.com/articles/game-lakers-sacramento-2074370-neal-nba
Kings took conspiracy out of '02 playoff game vs. Lakers
Though referees weren't at their best in the sixth game of the series against the Lakers, Sacramento was nearly at its worst.
MARK WHICKER
A review of Game 6 of the 2002 Western Conference Finals indicates who was really responsible for the Lakers' 106-102 victory over Sacramento.
It was Colonel Mustard. In the conservatory. With a candlestick.
This doesn't explain everything, of course. NBC's Marv Albert, Steve Jones and Bill Walton didn't notice Jack Ruby suddenly charging onto the Staples Center court to call Vlade Divac's sixth foul.
Nor have we heard any more about Jack Abramoff dining with officials Bob Delany, Dick Bavetta and Ted Bernhardt after the Lakers victory, which led to a Game 7 overtime victory in Sacramento two days later.
Tim Donaghy, the admitted game-fixer, threw a dead fish into the NBA's punch bowl last week by alleging that Game 6 was indeed fixed to keep the series going. He said two of the officials ignored obvious fouls and called obscure ones to keep Sacramento down.
You know, as opposed to all those NBA games in which every obvious foul is correctly detected and no fouls are committed below the surface.
The Kings themselves spread the suspicion that some dudes were faking, but then that group would have complained if the showers weren't stocked with Crabtree & Evelyn products.
The real perpetrator was a Loch Ness monster.
Shaquille O'Neal swished his first 10 free throws that night. He wound up hitting 13 of 17. That went with 41 points and 17 rebounds.
If O'Neal hits a thoroughly possible 8 of 17, the Lakers lose. So the guy who somehow remote-controlled O'Neal into being Rick Barry that night is the guy who should be investigated.
The Lakers did shoot 27 fourth-quarter foul shots to Sacramento's nine. But six of those shots came after desperation fouls by Sacramento. Centers Vlade Divac and Scot Pollard fouled out, but Divac's sixth came on a loose ball reach, when he was standing and Robert Horry was diving. At that point of the game, the free throw difference was only 24-19.
Sacramento fouled just 31 times to the Lakers' 24. Going into Game 6, Sacramento shot 149 free throws to the Lakers' 112 in the series, and the Lakers were the ones calling for "60 Minutes" to look into this.
So if this really were a fix, it was executed so perfectly that you just know the NBA office could have had nothing to do with it.
Those who watched Game 6 and were not employed by the Maloof brothers, who own the Kings, did not automatically go "Hmmm." The screaming only reached a crescendo after Game 7, when the Kings shot 16 for 30 from the foul line, 2 for 20 from the 3-point line, and watched O'Neal bury 11 of 15 free throws. He also scored 35 with 13 rebounds. That's the main flashback you get from the Game 6 tape: O'Neal was pretty good back then.
This is not to say that the officials were spotless in Game 6.
Late in the game, Kobe Bryant got caught in an arm-wrestle with Mike Bibby on an in-bound pass and socked him in the nose with an elbow, without a call. There was also some X-ray vision required to see how Chris Webber could have possibly hacked Bryant a few possessions earlier.
When Webber lowered his shoulder and Robert Horry sprawled as if shot, prompting a charge on Webber, Walton called it "a terrible call." He also thought O'Neal had traveled when he drew Pollard's sixth foul, but after a replay or two, he amended it to say, "When you hold your hands up as early as Pollard does, you're not going to get the benefit of the doubt. The officials think you're bailing out of the play."
The next day, Sacramento coach Rick Adelman said his only problems concerned two Lakers fouls that should have been deemed flagrant — the Bryant elbow to Bibby and O'Neal's takedown of Lawrence Funderburke.
"Everything else," he said, "you just play through."
The NBA itself has had to play through raised eyebrows for years now.
You would think a league that has given San Antonio four championship banners — and two lottery victories that became Tim Duncan and David Robinson — would be immune to that sort of winking speculation. But when Donaghy kept chirping, the problems spilled into David Letterman's monologue, and thus became American legend.
The NBA doesn't fix games. But it does need to tighten its guidelines — after all, Donaghy slipped under the door. It should work out some sort of expanded replay system, with coaches using challenges for non-judgment calls.
It should also let the refs discuss their calls with reporters afterward, as it used to, when Earl Strom and John Vanak were respected everywhere.
Meanwhile, the Lakers became 2002 NBA champions, and the Kings never got to breathe on the trophy again. And people in dimly lit basements continue to believe the worst.
Maybe they should go outside and sample some $4.50-a-gallon gas, and try to untangle that one.
Kings took conspiracy out of '02 playoff game vs. Lakers
Though referees weren't at their best in the sixth game of the series against the Lakers, Sacramento was nearly at its worst.
MARK WHICKER
A review of Game 6 of the 2002 Western Conference Finals indicates who was really responsible for the Lakers' 106-102 victory over Sacramento.
It was Colonel Mustard. In the conservatory. With a candlestick.
This doesn't explain everything, of course. NBC's Marv Albert, Steve Jones and Bill Walton didn't notice Jack Ruby suddenly charging onto the Staples Center court to call Vlade Divac's sixth foul.
Nor have we heard any more about Jack Abramoff dining with officials Bob Delany, Dick Bavetta and Ted Bernhardt after the Lakers victory, which led to a Game 7 overtime victory in Sacramento two days later.
Tim Donaghy, the admitted game-fixer, threw a dead fish into the NBA's punch bowl last week by alleging that Game 6 was indeed fixed to keep the series going. He said two of the officials ignored obvious fouls and called obscure ones to keep Sacramento down.
You know, as opposed to all those NBA games in which every obvious foul is correctly detected and no fouls are committed below the surface.
The Kings themselves spread the suspicion that some dudes were faking, but then that group would have complained if the showers weren't stocked with Crabtree & Evelyn products.
The real perpetrator was a Loch Ness monster.
Shaquille O'Neal swished his first 10 free throws that night. He wound up hitting 13 of 17. That went with 41 points and 17 rebounds.
If O'Neal hits a thoroughly possible 8 of 17, the Lakers lose. So the guy who somehow remote-controlled O'Neal into being Rick Barry that night is the guy who should be investigated.
The Lakers did shoot 27 fourth-quarter foul shots to Sacramento's nine. But six of those shots came after desperation fouls by Sacramento. Centers Vlade Divac and Scot Pollard fouled out, but Divac's sixth came on a loose ball reach, when he was standing and Robert Horry was diving. At that point of the game, the free throw difference was only 24-19.
Sacramento fouled just 31 times to the Lakers' 24. Going into Game 6, Sacramento shot 149 free throws to the Lakers' 112 in the series, and the Lakers were the ones calling for "60 Minutes" to look into this.
So if this really were a fix, it was executed so perfectly that you just know the NBA office could have had nothing to do with it.
Those who watched Game 6 and were not employed by the Maloof brothers, who own the Kings, did not automatically go "Hmmm." The screaming only reached a crescendo after Game 7, when the Kings shot 16 for 30 from the foul line, 2 for 20 from the 3-point line, and watched O'Neal bury 11 of 15 free throws. He also scored 35 with 13 rebounds. That's the main flashback you get from the Game 6 tape: O'Neal was pretty good back then.
This is not to say that the officials were spotless in Game 6.
Late in the game, Kobe Bryant got caught in an arm-wrestle with Mike Bibby on an in-bound pass and socked him in the nose with an elbow, without a call. There was also some X-ray vision required to see how Chris Webber could have possibly hacked Bryant a few possessions earlier.
When Webber lowered his shoulder and Robert Horry sprawled as if shot, prompting a charge on Webber, Walton called it "a terrible call." He also thought O'Neal had traveled when he drew Pollard's sixth foul, but after a replay or two, he amended it to say, "When you hold your hands up as early as Pollard does, you're not going to get the benefit of the doubt. The officials think you're bailing out of the play."
The next day, Sacramento coach Rick Adelman said his only problems concerned two Lakers fouls that should have been deemed flagrant — the Bryant elbow to Bibby and O'Neal's takedown of Lawrence Funderburke.
"Everything else," he said, "you just play through."
The NBA itself has had to play through raised eyebrows for years now.
You would think a league that has given San Antonio four championship banners — and two lottery victories that became Tim Duncan and David Robinson — would be immune to that sort of winking speculation. But when Donaghy kept chirping, the problems spilled into David Letterman's monologue, and thus became American legend.
The NBA doesn't fix games. But it does need to tighten its guidelines — after all, Donaghy slipped under the door. It should work out some sort of expanded replay system, with coaches using challenges for non-judgment calls.
It should also let the refs discuss their calls with reporters afterward, as it used to, when Earl Strom and John Vanak were respected everywhere.
Meanwhile, the Lakers became 2002 NBA champions, and the Kings never got to breathe on the trophy again. And people in dimly lit basements continue to believe the worst.
Maybe they should go outside and sample some $4.50-a-gallon gas, and try to untangle that one.